At the Bottom of the Slide
by IvySeeker
Summary: [Prussia x Reader Human AU One Shot] "By then you knew for sure that you loved him, for all his flaws and his overinflated ego. In fact, it was endearing because he knew how to toe the line between being adorable and downright obnoxious. You always liked his pride, but never in your life did you dream that it would be the thing that would push you two apart." TW: Death, Suicide.


**A/N: **Hi guys! Sorry for disappearing for so long. Lots of life and whatnot. I also attribute my inability to post a long fic to my innate lack of commitment. In light of that, please have this one shot that was written two hours past my usual sleeping hours.

* * *

You cannot remember exactly when you fell in love with him, but you can remember why.

Gilbert had always been your best friend, ever since the two of you were little children whose worlds were no bigger than the small park between your houses. You would spend every day with him on the swings, screaming when he pushed you too high and wiggling your legs to get even higher. After that the two of you would race for the slide, the biggest one at the end. He would win, of course, and jump feet first into the dark opening, and you would chase after him. It was dark inside the slide, but when you reached the end it was always bright, and he would be waiting there for you with that ridiculous smile and open arms. Unable to stop, you'd crash into him and end up in a heap on the ground. Sure it stung a little, but it was fun. Then the two of you got up, brushed yourselves off and did it all over again.

Your friendship with him continued all the way through middle school, and he stuck by you even when you got your first pair of glasses, and most of the other children laughed and called you names. He would tell you not to listen to them, that you were awesome the way you were and they were just too silly not to notice. In high school you got your first pair of contacts. You hated them. He told you again that you were absolutely beautiful with or without your glasses. You never wore those contacts again.

When the two of you were seniors, he asked you out to prom. By then your circle of friends had grown, and so had his, but you and him were still close. You couldn't find a reason to say no, so you said yes. After that night (nothing memorable, really, just a couple of slow dances in which both of you realised neither could actually dance, and an incident with the punch bowl and his two friends; Antonio and Francis.) something changed between you and him. It wasn't a bad change, in fact, it was one that brought the two of you closer than ever. It didn't have to be 'made official', it just fell into place neatly like that.

By then you knew for sure that you loved him, for all his flaws and his overinflated ego. In fact, it was endearing because he knew how to toe the line between being adorable and downright obnoxious. You always liked his pride, but never in your life did you dream that it would be the thing that would push you two apart.

You can remember exactly how he broke the news. The memory is clear, even though at that time, you felt strangely numb. He brought you to the haunt of your childhood, sat you down on the swing and pushed you gently. When it settled into a nice rhythm he began to talk.

"I'm going to Germany to study."

"…"

"I'll be back in a year, don't worry."

"…"

"…"

"… Don't go."

"I'll come back, I promise! And then we can go to college together and do all the things we planned to."

"This is for your father, isn't it?"

"…"  
"Gil, you don't have to do something like that to prove yourself to him!"

"Please, let me do this." Somewhere along the course of the conversation, he had stopped pushing the swing and went to stand in front of you. There were tears in his eyes, and in yours. You wanted to scream no, to force him to stay and be with you, but you couldn't. If doing it would make him happy, then a year was nothing, wasn't it?

He left. A month passed by agonisingly slowly, then two, and then three. You kept in contact with him through video calls and emails, but it wasn't the same. A whole year passed, with you missing him and him missing you. But life went on, because that's how it had to be. Besides, the prospect of his imminent return was what kept you going.

On the day of his arrival, you waited at the airport with his younger brother, holding up a sign with his name on it. The plane was delayed for an hour due to bad weather- you were impatient, but not too much. What was an hour when you had waited a whole year? An hour became two, and then three. The crowd around you grew bigger with worried relatives and friends, each anxiously waiting for the return of someone they cared about. You wanted to stay calm, to tell yourself that everything would be fine and he would be back soon, but the fear that stole over you was pervasively formless- it slid under the cracks of your calm and filled up every empty space in your mind.

One single man walked out of the arrival hall, he was dressed in a suit and held a single sheet of paper.

"Flight EG 947 was flying in…."

The world around up spun in numb chaos. People's voices grew, clamouring for answers and yet you could still hear the man's voice above them.

"… in the ocean…"

You didn't want to listen, and yet you did, still clinging on desperately onto the last few strands of hope.

"… There are no survivors. I'm sorry."

And just like that, everything you'd ever known, all your happiness and joy, just crumbled away. There had to be a mistake, perhaps you'd heard the number of the flight wrongly, or maybe he hadn't even gotten on it at all for some reason. But no matter how much you begged and hoped and wished, the truth still stood. He was gone.

Your world turned black.

Words of consolation, gestures of sympathy, what did they matter if they weren't from him? Everything reminded you of him, and your chest ached constantly with a yearning that could never be filled. After the tears dried up, the despair set in, a suffocating, numbing sort of depression that weighed on your shoulders and drained the life from your eyes. It would get better, they said, you'll learn how to cope and one day the pain will go away. You wanted to scream, how could they know? How could they know anything when they weren't the ones who'd lost someone?

One day, it became too much.

You swallowed a bottle of pills and lay down on the bed. It grew darker and darker, until you were alone in the pitch black void. Abruptly, just like when you were children, the darkness vanished and he was there in the bright light, arms wide open with a smile on his face.

"I knew I'd see you again."


End file.
